


Forgiveness, Take Two

by connerluthorkent



Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Conversations, Developing Relationship, Forgiveness, Loaded Conversations, M/M, Post-Episode: s05e08 Nothing's Shocking, Pre-Episode: s05e10 They Did What?, Pre-Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-24
Updated: 2019-11-24
Packaged: 2021-02-26 07:40:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 890
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21550048
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/connerluthorkent/pseuds/connerluthorkent
Summary: In the midst of No Man's Land, Oswald is missing Martín. He and Ed have a chat about forgiveness and taking second chances.
Relationships: Oswald Cobblepot & Martin, Oswald Cobblepot/Edward Nygma
Comments: 16
Kudos: 104





	Forgiveness, Take Two

**Author's Note:**

> Another one of Ed and Oswald's loaded No Man's Land conversations. Just a short, contemplative little piece.
> 
> I do not consent to my work being hosted on any unofficial apps. 
> 
> Unbeta'ed, as per usual, so all mistakes are mine alone.

When he finally takes a break from working on the sub, Ed finds Oswald in the room off the library, perched at the edge of the shabby couch. There’s a picture clutched in his hand, the edges worn and fraying. Oswald startles at the sound of Ed’s footfalls, hastily trying to fold the picture back into his pocket. 

Not before Ed catches a glimpse, however. A familiar young face, smiling up from Oswald’s elbow, in a sharp suit with hair styled to match Oswald’s own gravity-defying plumage. A mini-me with dark brown eyes and cherub-like cheeks. 

_It’s why I’m alone_ , Oswald had said, to Penn, to _him_ , voice breaking in the middle, and Ed felt his heart give an unexpected pang at the words.

Ed approaches cautiously, carefully taking a seat on the other end of the couch, the cushion between them a chasm. Every day Ed feels closer to crossing it. 

“Oswald,” Ed asks, keeping his voice steady, “where is Martín?”

Oswald takes a sloppy swig of his Scotch. Morose rather than furious, like Ed thought he might be at even a mention of the young boy’s name.

“At a boarding school upstate,” Oswald says, not looking at Ed. “I sent him away from the city during the _first_ Valeska fiasco. Coming so soon off the heels of Sofia Falcone...it just solidified that it wasn’t safe. That it will probably never be safe for him here. Not with me, anyway. We were exchanging letters for a while, but then—”

Oswald sighs, leaning forward in his chair to rub at his eyes. He gestures around them with the drink in his hand.

“All of this happened, cutting off our communication entirely. He probably thinks I’ve forgotten him,” he rubs his temples once more. “If life has any mercy, maybe he’ll forget me.”

Ed swallows hard, at a loss for what to say. Feeling compelled, against several years of ingrained instinct, to offer comfort, but with no idea how. 

“He won’t forget you,” Ed says automatically, unsure if the statement will make things better or worse. But he knows it’s true, feels it with conviction in his chest. “No one could forget someone who’s done as much for them as you have for him.”

Oswald peers at him with one eye, face still partially obscured by his hand. 

“And what’s that? Allowed him to get caught up as a pawn in the middle of a gang war and then shipped him off to boarding school immediately after?” Oswald scoffs. “What a truly sterling impact I’ve had on his life.”

Ed huffs out an irritated sigh at Oswald’s gloomy overdramatics.

“Oh, let me see,” Ed begins counting off on his fingers, “you provided him a home. A family, when he had none. You protected him from Sofia Falcone, who you’ve made it clear already had him in her pocket as a pawn by the time you met him. Implicated yourself in his murder to keep her from targeting him, then stayed in Arkham for weeks to prevent more harm from coming to him. Had yours truly dive in and rescue him from Sofia and her goons, then sent him away from Gotham to keep him safe. I’d say that’s plenty to want to remember.”

Oswald frowns, staring blankly at the opposite wall.

“You were good to him, Oswald,” Ed says, emphatic, “he won’t forget that.”

Oswald rubs at his face in frustration. 

“But what does that even matter, if all I’ve ended up doing was hurting him in the end?”

“Just because you hurt someone,” Ed says slowly, “doesn’t mean that you’ve erased all the good things you did for them before. It doesn’t mean those things didn’t matter.” 

Oswald shoots Ed a look, eyes sharp and sad.

“Doesn’t it?”

“No,” Ed says firmly, “it doesn’t.”

He’s remembering puzzle boxes and biscuits, sweaters and certificates of sanity. A decadent room with a closet full of beautiful suits and a soft, king-size bed, such an upgrade from the hard Arkham cot Ed had to pinch himself to prove it was real. Words of praise and cups of tea and a reassuring hand on his shoulder. A job and a home and a second chance at life, like a dream offered up on a platter. The opportunity to be who he truly wanted to be, which Ed had seized with both hands. 

There might be a gulf, black and deep, between then and now, but that doesn’t mean Ed has forgotten. 

“Besides,” Ed says, reaching across to give Oswald’s knee a reassuring pat, “we’re going to get off this godforsaken island. And once we do, we can go to Martín first thing.” 

Oswald gnaws at his lip, green eyes anxious.

“What if he doesn’t forgive me?” he asks, a tremble in his voice as he looks at Ed pleadingly.

“All you can do is try to make up for it given the chance,” Ed says, surprising himself with the gentleness of his own tone, “that’s all anyone could ask.”

Oswald gives a sharp nod of assent. His eyes are still glassy, jaw clenched too hard. But the tightness in his shoulders loosens, ever so slightly, and it feels like a victory, however small.

“Besides,” Ed goes on, “I know Martín. He’s a smart boy.” 

He shoots Oswald a knowing, secretive smile. 

“He will.”


End file.
